Just Another Day
by SarahSwan7
Summary: One-shot. A day in the life of the Series 5 team, written from all of their perspectives.


**A/N: After watching several series of '24' (sort of the American version of Spooks, but Spooks is much better in my opinion) I had the idea of writing a day in the life of the team in a similar fashion. Not much plot, I was just experimenting with structure and writing from the perspective of various characters. Hope you enjoy it!**

 _Ros_

6:30am: My waking-up method – a brisk, cold shower – was slightly regrettable, seeing as there is frost clinging to the window panes and my entire flat is bloody freezing. I was anticipating my first coffee of the day with great relief until it dawned that I forgot to buy some more coffee filters. The pitiful jar of dusty granules doused in water made gritty from limescale due to the uncleaned kettle at Thames House will be my first opportunity for a caffeine fix.

7:30am: Another tube strike. I shouldn't still be surprised at the unreliability of public transport, but I was hoping that on a day as cold as this I wouldn't be given the bad luck of trekking to work. Believing in luck is clearly a waste of energy.

8:15am: Made it. Bloody blister, though, right between two toes. Made a coffee and then was called to the morning briefing – it was stone cold on my return. This day has barely begun and I can already sense it won't be a particularly pleasant one.

8:40am: I think Ruth is coming down with something. Either that or she's coughing every five seconds just to personally irritate me.

9:00am: Yup, she's definitely sick. Harry looked startled when she sneezed in the middle of him giving her an instruction and suggested that she went home, but Ruth is stubborn. She wasn't having any of it.

9:02am: Another sneeze.

9:05am: I wish she'd go home.

...

 _Zaf_

9:06am: Had to go and pick up a suspect for questioning but got stuck in traffic, so it took way longer than expected. I am frozen and hungry. Harry is unimpressed.

9:15am: Worked my charm and Harry is now less likely to murder me. Hopefully.

9:22am: I think Ruth's ill. I made her a cup of tea (my mum always said that tea makes everything better and that chivalry is important) which I hope helped, but she looks pretty rough.

9:23am: Ah, a post-op status report awaits. My favourite pastime (definite sarcasm). I wonder if there are any biscuits?

10:05am: Jo's just come up from the archives. She looks pretty today. I should start concentrating on work related tasks instead of chatting to her.

10:20am: Is this report I have to read getting longer or am I getting slower? Must be old age. I have newfound pity for Harry.

10:27am: I wonder if Jo will say yes to that room in my flat. It's so quiet without a flatmate. And I'm bored of doing the washing up.

10:35am: Adam's got a lead on a key suspect and chose me to go and pick him up while he tracks down the guy's handler. I suggested that I should stay here in the central-heated office eating biscuits and sipping coffee whilst writing up status reports, but he objected. Damn.

...

 _Jo_

11:01am: It's so quiet today. I figured that life in MI5 would always be hectic, but even spies have paperwork days. Not sure whether to feel bored or relieved.

11:04am: Bored. Definitely bored.

11:05am: I'm not sure how many coffees I can have before it seems like I'm taking advantage of the supply. It's running low anyway. I might see if there are any biscuits.

11:13am: Discovery of empty biscuit packet on the desk of officer Zafar Younis suggests that no such biscuits are currently available for eating.

11:27am: Finished reading this file. Yay. It took me ages to find down in the archives because I'm yet to master the cataloguing system. I'm supposed to hand it to Ruth for cross-checking but she looks under the weather. I think I've got some paracetamol in my bag.

11:30am: Ruth took the file eagerly. I asked if she was okay, to which she responded 'I'm fine' a touch aggressively. I decided to save my offer of paracetamol for later.

11:42am: I interrogated Zaf about aforementioned biscuit snaffling on his return. He pleaded not guilty, but I'm having none of that. If I move in with him there'll be no such inequality concerning sugary snacks.

11:43am: I should probably tell him that I've decided to move in. I've left it a bit long since his last offer. Does he think I don't want to?

11.45am: Arrrgh, why am I agonising over this? Tell him, Portman. Tell him that you fancy- _find_ the offer of a room really generous, and that you'll accept. Not that you fancy him. Don't admit that out loud. At least not yet.

...

 _Harry_

11:50am: It seems like I've spent at least a month on the phone but in reality it's only been an hour or so. Why some senior officials are unable to follow simple instructions baffles me. Do I look like I have the time (or indeed the patience) to spoon feed everyone who I work with and be sensitive towards their every need? Maybe I should start hanging up on whining politicians. Or would that land me the sack? Seems tempting.

11:52am: Damn. Forgot to de-ice my bloody car this morning. It'll be hell to clear when I get home.

11:56am: The Home Secretary wants an update on our latest operation. I had to tell him that progress was slow, to which he wasn't so slow to give an unimpressed and largely sarcastic response. The temptation to slam down the phone was almost unbearable. At least I have the mercy of a hardworking team who actually follow the instructions I give and can maintain some professionalism.

12:03pm: Glanced up and caught Zaf stealing post-it notes from Adam's desk. Perhaps I spoke too soon about professionalism.

12:07pm: Received the file on our latest suspect via email. Thirty seven pages long. I think it can wait until after lunch.

12:10pm: Adam has discovered that his post-it notes are missing and is beginning to interrogate the team. I'm curious as to how this will end.

12:13pm: Juliet Shaw on line 3. Sometimes I think she calls just to harass me.

12:20pm: Jo is claiming that she was a witness to the crime. Adam is pacing towards Zaf's desk, the other man oblivious of his imminent fate... This window looking out onto the Grid was installed so I could monitor my team, not watch their personal squabbles playing out as an amused onlooker. But I much prefer the latter.

12:24pm: Zaf has cracked. Adam has re-claimed his stolen property. And I am going mad due to the amount of documents I have to read today.

12:27pm: Ruth came in to deliver some files and she looks terrible. Well, not terrible as in unattractive. She's attractive. Not that I view my colleagues in such a way, of course. She's unwell. That's what I meant.

...

 _Malcolm_

12:30pm: I have been in since 6am trying to update our software, and the system has just crashed. It's not in my nature to get angry but right now I wish I had Adam's job and could justifiably shout or shoot something. Instead I maintain my meek persona and calmly make a cup of tea. I have found it to be a foolproof solution to stress over the years.

12:35pm: There are fragments of the update still lingering, so it shouldn't take too long to get the system up and running. It would be completed far more quickly if I were to have some assistance, but ever since Colin- well, Harry hasn't got round to hiring a replacement yet. I think he believes I can cope on my own. I appreciate his faith in me, but it gets lonely. Everyone else has had a taste of field work – even Ruth, although to a lesser extent – so sometimes I feel like the odd one out.

12:42pm: Zaf came over to talk about the cricket for a few moments before going on his lunch break. It's been disastrous lately, and I enjoyed venting my frustration with a fellow fan. I can't claim to know much about the young people of today, but Zaf has good taste in sport and is pleasant to talk to. Less abrasive than Adam, that's for sure.

12:44pm: Adam asked if I wanted a coffee. I politely declined – I've never liked the stuff. Too bitter, and the way people drink it covered in froth and chocolate merely to mask its unpleasant taste is just a palaver. At least he offered, though. He can be thoughtful, and I wouldn't doubt his leadership skills for a second (he is certainly far braver than I will ever be) but sometimes he is angry or reckless. I've noticed it more so ever since Fiona died. I've been in Section D for years, albeit as a background figure, but I pay attention. I notice. I know the members of my team very well.

12:45pm: Perhaps they don't know me in the same way. Then again, there isn't much to know. I enjoy cricket and a good glass of wine. I visit my mother every Tuesday and we watch old episodes of Countdown. I know how to work computers, or hack them, or take them to pieces. I haven't got a troubled history like Adam, or a busy social life like Zaf. I'm not as young as Jo, or depended upon as much as Ruth, nor do I have authority like Harry. Good old dependable Malcolm. I was never supposed to be a star.

1:23pm: Jo was having problems with her computer so I gave her a hand. When I fixed the glitch she gave me a really genuine smile and said, exactly, "Malcolm, you're a star". She'll never know how much that meant to me.

...

 _Adam_

2:30pm: I've been waiting outside the warehouse for almost twenty minutes. My patience is thin. As is my jacket – I didn't realise today would be so bloody cold. My shoes are soaked too. They've got holes in them and I haven't bothered to buy new ones yet. I haven't got much spare time at the moment.

2:32pm: I don't know why Harry insisted that I wait for CO19. We just need to bring in this handler for interrogation. I'm armed and I've got some brain cells lurking in my head, so I think I'm up for the job.

2:40pm: CO19 are half an hour late. Screw it, I'm going in.

3:15pm: It was easy. Our man is now in one of our holding suites. I was about to begin questioning him but Harry is gesturing for me to come to his office, and he looks pissed off.

3:22pm: Well that was a waste of time. Harry told me I had been reckless – what else is new? I got the result we needed. It was unfortunate that CO19 got stuck in traffic and it was in the best interests of the operation that I went in alone. Harry keeps mentioning recovery periods and psychological problems but he's wrong. I just need to work to clear my head, otherwise I think of Fiona and the family we never got to raise.

3:23pm: Wes is in the school play tonight. I can't believe I let that slip my mind.

4:36pm: Finally had a crack at questioning but this guy isn't likely to break any time soon. Our intelligence indicates that he is part of a cell that could carry out an attack within the next twelve hours, so it's unlikely I'll be able to leave until the threat has been averted.

6:15pm: I got pulled out of interrogation for using 'unnecessary force'. He wasn't co-operating; I tried to convince him to do otherwise. With my fist. Zaf has taken over.

6:25pm: Just called Jenny to say I wouldn't be able to make it to Wes' play. She sounded disappointed. But nowhere near as disappointed as I am in myself.

...

 _Ruth_

7:45pm: I'm glad my shift is nearly over because all hell is breaking loose here. The man that we are interrogating attempted to escape, breaking Zaf's wrist in the process. Adam smashed a coffee mug in frustration and stormed off swearing. I'm not surprised – he was supposed to be the interrogator but Harry took him off for attacking the handler. It should have been him that ended up getting hurt so he's blaming himself. Zaf is fine though – irritated, obviously, but the break wasn't complicated. He called from the medic station down on the fourth floor to tell me how boring it is down there. I'll take him a drink and some biscuits to cheer him up.

7:55pm: Zaf is as chipper as ever. Jo was really worried and wouldn't calm down until I told her that Zaf was clearly fine considering that he had been flirting with the nurse for the duration of my visit. Some things never change.

8:01pm: I was supposed to be going home but I've picked up some vital intelligence. I need to figure out whether it is forged or genuine. I sincerely hope it's forged.

8:05pm: I hope I've got some Lemsip in the cupboard at home. This cold has been hassling me all day. I've been told to go home several times by concerned colleagues, but sick days make me feel guilty. I'm not really that unwell. I'm sure I'll be better by the morning.

8:10pm: This threat is real. It indicates that the man in our holding cell is a decoy and the real person we need is his wife. He'll be able to tell us where she is.

8:13pm: Third officer lucky: Ros is the new interrogator. Adam is scary and Zaf is skilled, but Ros is patient. She is also ruthless. I wouldn't like to be trapped in a soundproof room with her.

8:33pm: She got the location of the wife. I don't know what she did and I don't want to know, but it worked. I've never been particularly keen on Ros but she certainly is efficient.

9:04pm: Only an hour over-time. Not too bad. My cats probably won't have noticed my absence yet.

9:20pm: Damn. Got outside and my car is completely covered in ice. The de-icer is under the passenger seat, but the lock is frozen shut. I'll have to call a taxi.

9:25pm: My mobile phone is out of charge.

9:33pm: Went back to the Grid in search of Jo in the hope that she could give me a lift – she only lives a few streets away from me. Ros told me that she had left with Zaf a few minutes ago. I explained my plight and the last thing I expected was for her to offer me a lift. I was about to decline, not wanting to trouble her, until someone else stepped in.

9:55pm: It was kind of Harry to take me home. Then again, he has his own driver now. He said it made him feel more important than he really is. I told him he was important to me. I quickly corrected myself – he's important to the _team_ – but not before he saw me blushing. He smiled.

10:00pm: Home at last. Harry made it clear that the lift was on one condition – that I take tomorrow off. The headache currently pounding in my temples ensured that I agreed.

10:05pm: No Lemsip. No paracetemol. A cup of tea will have to suffice.

6:25am: I hoped I would sleep away the cold but it looks like it's here to stay for another day.

6:27am: Someone knocked at the door. It's too early for the post, or a visitor. I grabbed the candlestick from the hall table as a potential weapon, feeling equal parts foolish and afraid.

6:29am: A takeaway coffee and croissant on my doorstep, with a note: _Hope I didn't wake you. Get well soon, -H._

6:30am: Despite feeling under the weather, he managed to make me smile with that.

...


End file.
